Once lived near the Nile,
Whose teeth began useless to get, oh!
But he cried with delight:
"I shall dine well to-night
Now of teeth I have got a new set, oh!"

CHAPTER EIGHT.

GRANDFATHER'S HERO, BY ANON.

"Harry Moore's a milksop," said Bob decidedly.

"Why?" asked his sister. "I thought you liked him."

"So I did," answered Bob, "but I hadn't found out what a stupid he was."

"And how did you find it out?" asked Maud.

"Well, I'll tell you," said Bob. "Last Saturday, you know, we had a
paper-chase, and the track was over the bog meadows down by the river.
Harry Moore and I were last, and all of a sudden he stopped and said: `I
can't go over these fields.' I asked him why not, and he said they were
_too wet_." Bob uttered the last words very contemptuously.

"Well?" questioned Maud.

"Well, I told him he was a little milksop and had better go home, and he
went, and I haven't spoken to him since, although I met him and his
little sister and brother with their go-cart this morning. I don't care
about being friends with milksops," Bob added frankly.

"Of course not," Maud agreed.

"Oh, bother this rain," said Bob impatiently. "It's going to be wet
this afternoon. What shall we do?"

"Come here, children," said their Grandfather, from his chair by the
fireside. "I will tell you a little story to while away the time."

The old man had been sitting with his eyes closed, and the children
thought he was asleep. But he had heard Bob's anecdote.

Grandfather's stories were always interesting, and the children were
glad to forget the weather in listening to one of them.

"I was thinking just now," said their Grandfather presently, "of a great
and good man, who is now one of the greatest officers in the army. I
want to tell you a little incident that happened when we were schoolboys
together. We were three years together, then he left, and I have never
seen him again, for his life has been spent in foreign lands. He was
some years older than I, and I daresay he soon forgot the little fellow
who used secretly to look up to him and worship him. But now I must
tell you why he became my hero. One day a party of boys had arranged to
walk to a place four miles distant, where there was to be a meet of the
hounds. I wanted very much to go; I joined the party as they set out on
their expedition. There were six boys, all older than myself, one of
them being the handsome, clever fellow whom